Ophelia Adrift

by Helen Goltz

  Chapter 6

  JACK

  Ophelia couldn’t see me but as soon as she was opposite the beach, I had her in sight as she walked up the path to the front door of what was now her home. She smiled seeing Argo and Agnes lying in the warmth of the sun on either side of the door. She had a nice smile but her face was so pale that she looked positively translucent. Argo and Agnes spotted her and ran down the path to greet her with a raucous round of barking and energy. She seemed really delighted to see them and dropped her backpack to embrace them both.

  “Is Uncle Seb home?” I heard her ask the dogs and looked to his office window to the right of the door. Hearing the noise, he appeared in the window and waved.

  Ophelia picked up her bag and went to push open the door but it swung in easily. The dogs followed her in. I stayed outside, hearing but not seeing. The house moaned, it could sense me nearby.

  “Hi Lia,” I heard Sebastian call from the hallway. “I’ve got a conference call in five minutes so I’ll be out in about half an hour.”

  “All good,” she called back and I heard her thump up the stairs two at a time to her level and to her room. She called out: “Can I take Argo and Agnes for a walk up the beach?”

  “Absolutely, thanks!” Sebastian called back.

  Excellent. I withdrew down the driveway towards the beach waiting for her to appear. I had been waiting for her all day, unable to get her out of my mind since seeing her framed by moonlight in the window last night—she looked beautiful and ghostly.

  Within minutes she reappeared wearing fitted grey three-quarter leggings, an oversized black hoodie, her hair tied back and peeking through a black baseball cap. At the front door, she pushed her feet into her white canvas slip-ons, grab the dogs’ leads which were more for show-and-tell in case needed, and closing the door behind her, headed to the beach. The two dogs shook their tails with excitement and flanked her like guard dogs.

  I walked in her shadow. I saw her stop as she got to the end of the path and the beach entrance, slip off the shoes, and enjoy the cool sand between her toes. She breathed in deeply; the air was full of salt, so thick you could almost cut it. The dogs obediently stopped and waited for her. They all headed to the firm sand. For big dogs, they moved well; Agnes and Argo chased each other, running to the water’s edge. Ophelia glanced left and right and decided to walk the opposite way to her walk last evening with Adam. The dogs ran ahead.

  I walked nearby her. I whispered her name into the wind. She turned sharply left and then right, but could not see me. Her hand reached for the locket around her throat and she touched it, believing the sound she heard was her parents. I could read her thoughts and her energy. She was pleased for the time alone; time to think about her parents. She smiled at the dogs enjoying themselves as they ran back to her side and back to the water’s edge again. Out to sea she could see a ship on the horizon and knew Sebastian would be excited watching from his office window. Further down the beach a couple of joggers ran past us but otherwise, the beach was largely deserted. At the point, the surfers were out catching the remaining waves of the day.

  This was nice, very nice; just the two of us and Agnes and Argo. I felt like I had her all to myself. She breathed deeply again and followed the dogs to the water’s edge to walk in the firmer sand. I could do this every day, Ophelia. We could do it together. Like trained protectors, Agnes and Argo took turns at coming back and checking on her; neither going too far ahead. Maybe they sensed me, so did Ophelia; she shuddered walking through a cold pocket of air. She walked on for another fifteen minutes or so, the ocean breeze gently keeping her hair off her face and masking her with salt water spray. As she neared the point, she saw a group of six people on the beach watching the surfers. Ophelia shivered—it was chilly out there, they were diehards. She called the names of both the dogs and when they joined her, she told them it was time to turn, and they began to walk back the other way.

  As I walked, behind her, we both heard her name being called. I knew who it was—like vultures these men looking at new prey. First Adam Ferrier, now Chayse Johann. He was heading out of the water, his surfboard tucked under his arm. He called out her name again.

  “Ophelia, wait up.”

  She stopped and the dogs rejoined her. I waited nearby as Ophelia watched him head up the beach and pull the surfboard strap from his leg. He dropped his board on the sand, grabbed his towel and ran towards her. I felt Ophelia’s heart racing—he was tall, handsome and glowing, his tanned skin wet and his hair slicked back. She could see why he was the school heartthrob but not her type, I was sure of that.

  “Hey,” he caught up to her. “We haven’t officially met, I’m Chayse.”

  “Hi, I’m Ophelia,” she offered her hand.

  His large tanned hand enveloped it.

  “I know. We don’t get many newcomers at school in year eleven or twelve, especially mid-year. When did you arrive?” he asked. He ran his hand through his hair and shook out the excess water.

  “Last week. You’re good,” she said with a nod to the waves.

  “Yeah well I’d want to be. I’ve been surfing since I could walk.”

  Ophelia smiled at him not sure what to say.

  “You’re living with Sebastian,” he said more as a statement than a question.

  “Yes, he’s my uncle. He’s been good enough to take me in.”

  “Yeah, I heard about ... well, I’m sorry,” Chayse said. He looked at her sincerely and held her gaze.

  Ophelia nodded. “Thank you.” She looked back out to sea. Clearing her throat she asked, “Can I ask a favour?” Argo came and stood beside her and Ophelia ran her hand over Argo’s silky head.

  “So soon?” he grinned.

  Ophelia reddened. “It’s no big deal if you don’t want to.”

  “Ask away.”

  “I’m doing a history paper on the shipwreck history of the area, cause and effect—Mr. Meadows said you’re a descendent with a shipwreck past and might tell me your story,” Ophelia shrugged. “But only if you have time and want to ... it’s no big ...”

  He cut her off. “Love to. Maybe this weekend we could catch up, if you’re free?”

  Ophelia nodded. “That would be great. I don’t know too many people here yet so I’m free all the time at the moment.”

  Chayse laughed. “Well good of you to fit me in then.”

  My heart leaped. I wanted Ophelia to myself this weekend. I willed him to leave.

  “I think you’re wanted,” Ophelia said. I saw her glance behind Chayse to see his stunning blond girlfriend looking gorgeous in a very small white bikini bottom and cropped top. Clearly she was oblivious to the cold as she stood near his towel looking at them from a distance, her hands on her hips. She was more his type than Ophelia, I hope he remembered that.

  Ophelia raised her hand and gave Imogen a wave, which was reluctantly returned. Good move though.

  Chayse glanced behind and then back to Ophelia. He looked annoyed, running his hand over his face and through his hair.

  “I’ve got to get home, thanks for agreeing to be my research subject,” she smiled and turned, leading Argo and Agnes away.

  “Anytime,” he called behind her. “See you tomorrow at school, we can swap numbers then.”

  Ophelia glanced back, nodded and smiled. She walked on beside me, feeling me and touching her locket again. The dogs raced ahead. After a moment or so, she glanced back to see Chayse’s girlfriend draping herself over him reclaiming her territory. It was time that I staked mine.

  Chapter 7

  OPHELIA

  I saw him again that night, well early morning. It was like he controlled the moon and shone it into my bedroom. It leaked through the curtains, hanging suspended out the front of our home in the middle of the ocean. It was just after three o’clock when I stirred and decided to rise. Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, the only answer is to get up and do something. I had to keep the noise down however so I didn’t wake Uncle Seb, Adam and the
furry kids.

  I decided to sit in the bay window in my room again and watch the ocean, maybe I would see a ship on the horizon or some of the trawlers coming in. I pulled track pants and a knit pullover on over my T-shirt and underpants and prying open some of the curtain, slipped into the bay window seat. I turned to look down below and jumped in fright. He was there again, the same guy, this time he stood on the rocks looking directly up at me, his hands in his coat pockets, as though he had been waiting for me to appear.

  My heart was beating so fast from the fright. I could easily make out his smile like he was enjoying the joke. He looked down at the rocks a bit sheepishly then back up at me again. He had on a long jacket, like a military jacket that went to his knees, with dark pants and black boots. He looked strikingly handsome. His smile was infectious, a bit cheeky, and then he raised his hand and beckoned me down.

  I felt a shiver of fear and excitement. I bit my lip while I thought about it—he could be an axe murderer or he could attack me and then next day everyone would say how stupid I was to be down there on the rocks at that hour. He cocked his head to the side like he was trying to read my thoughts, then he looked down at the rocks again, nudged something with his boot, and pushing his hands into his coat pocked, he turned back around to look out to sea.

  I jumped up; I was going to go meet him. I put my runners on and grabbed from the cupboard a long, black waterproof jacket that Uncle Seb had given me on my arrival. I tied it up and carefully opened my door. There was not a sound. I crept down the stairs and met Argo at the bottom of the staircase. I patted him and he returned to his bed. I tugged the door open, snuck out and moved quickly across the path to the beach’s edge. I expected him to be gone again as I walked out on the sand and turned right towards the rock and rock pools. But there he was, striding from rock to rock, bending down and wading his hand through the rock pools. He caught sight of me and stood to full height.

  I shivered with the cold or maybe expectation. I must be crazy going out to meet a guy on the beach at three a.m. Who does that except in those horror movies that you watch through your fingers and scream out “turn the light on” or “don’t go in there, go back, go back!” I was getting carried away. He looked as nervous as I was, and smiled a beautiful smile. He was about a head taller than me and pale too. I could see a scar near his eyebrow and the top of a tattoo on his neck, the rest of the tattoo disappearing beneath his jacket line.

  “Hello moonlight girl,” he said in a warm tone.

  I smiled. “Ophelia,” I told him.

  He repeated my name.

  “And you are?” I asked.

  “Pleased to meet you at last,” he said. “I thought you would never come. I’m Jack.” He held out his hand. “Jack Denham.”

  I took his hand and I can’t explain what happened. It was some kind of connection. It sounds crazy to say but it was as if I had always known him, like I needed to know him. Then he let my hand go.

  JACK

  She was so beautiful. I knew the moment I set eyes on her that I would have her, but when we touched I was a little overwhelmed by the electricity—I had to let her hand go. I’m sure we were destined; some people don’t believe that but I have always believed that souls are made in pairs. Everyone else that you meet is just a learning experience, but one person is made just for you and you don’t want to lose that chance to be with them.

  “Why are you up at this hour?” she asked me. “I’ve seen you before haven’t I?

  “You did see me then?” I answered.

  She nodded. “I thought I was seeing a ghost.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” I teased her.

  She smiled again, bit her lower lip and looked out to sea.

  I watched her, not wanting to take my eyes from her face. “I could ask the same thing of you ... what are you doing up at this hour?”

  “I guess we’re both restless souls,” she shrugged.

  “I feel calm now,” I told her.

  Her eyes searched my face, she wasn’t sure about me or why she felt the chemistry but I knew she did as well.

  I offered my hand to her. “Come and sit on the rock with me for a while and watch the moon and tides for a bit? We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

  She looked surprised like I had read her thoughts, which I had.

  “That would be good,” she sighed ever so softly. “When you’re new, everyone wants to talk and hear your story.”

  “And telling it is like opening a wound,” I said.

  “Do you know ... about me?” her brow furrowed as she looked at me.

  “No,” I answered, “but I know about me.”

  “Oh,” she said, realising that I might not want to share my story just yet. She stepped towards me and placed her hand in mine. I led her up the rocks and guided her as she jumped over some of the little rock pools.

  “You have a slight accent,” she narrowed her eyes studying me. “Or you speak ... well, formally.”

  “I didn’t notice,” I shrugged.

  “It’s nice,” she assured me. “Are you a local?”

  “I am,” I told her. I had been here for a very, very long time already.

  She fell into me once and I reluctantly straightened her.

  “Sorry,” she blushed.

  “I’m not,” I said making her blush even more. I picked a spot that I knew would remain high and dry and where the moon would look magical and we sat until dawn.

  When she had to leave, I helped her back to the sand. I watched her leave before Adam and her uncle were up and the house stirred into action. I was gone before she looked out of her bedroom window for me, but I knew she would look. Our bond was meant to be and I missed her already.

  Chapter 8

  OPHELIA

  “You haven’t stopped yawning all morning,” Peggy prodded me at lunchtime. “Did you stay up late studying?”

  Harry scoffed. “It’s the second week of term!”

  “Just because you don’t study, doesn’t mean other people aren’t cramming,” Holly told her twin.

  I saw Peggy nod. She was hesitant to go against Harry but she agreed with Holly. I noticed she was trying a few different hairstyles now that she had closer access to Harry through me. I think Harry remained clueless to her charms.

  “There was a fight last night,” Harry said, saving me from having to explain my nocturnal happenings to Peggy.

  “Yeah and Adam came off worse,” Holly added. She took the band from her wrist and tied her bleached blond hair back as a light wind whipped between us.

  My ears pricked up at the mention of Adam’s name. “What happened? Was Adam hurt? But he was home last night.”

  Harry took over the telling of the story. “Must have gone out for a while around nine, it was down in front of the surf club—Adam and Chayse at it again but Adam took the punishment. He’s alright; he walked home.”

  “I didn’t see him this morning ... but he did turn in early last night. He must have gone back out.” I tried to remember. “What were they fighting about?” I scanned the grounds for Chayse and his pack but couldn’t see them.

  Harry looked at Holly and back at me and shrugged. “I don’t know really, some family grudge that goes back a long time.”

  I frowned. “But ... I don’t get it.”

  Holly stepped in. “It’s complex.”

  Peggy rolled her eyes. “Adam’s great, great, well ancestor, named William Ferrier, saved some of the sailors on the La Bella, but he couldn’t save one of Chayse’s relatives. He and the other rescuers could only reach so many because of the size of the sea. ”

  “Well that’s hardly Adam’s fault and I’m sure William saved as many as he could,” I said. “Really, they’re fighting about that?”

  “No,” Peggy continued. “The widow of Chayse’s ancestor moved here so she could be close to where her husband drew his last breath—romantic huh?” she said with a glance to Harry and then continued. “She already had three son
s, so the Johann name continued on in this town. But the Johann clan was always angry because the town celebrated Adam’s ancestor and other heroes in the town with statues and the annual Seafarer’s Parade, but never acknowledged those who lost their lives here. They thought they should be remembered too.”

  “Ah,” it started to dawn on me. “So they begrudged the Ferriers for their status in the community and since then there has been this rivalry over the generations, sort of?”

  “Precisely,” Holly piped in. “Especially when you’re talking men,” she said rolling her eyes and glancing at Harry.

  “What?” he held up his hands. “I wouldn’t be that stupid.”

  We all considered that for a moment and moved on.

  Holly said, “So for generations they’ve hated each other and taunted each other, and even if you got Chayse and Adam together to talk about why they hated each other I bet they couldn’t really tell you. But it’s in their blood.”

  “That’s dopey,” I added.

  Peggy laughed.

  “And Chayse is taller and bigger than Adam, he should lay off,” I added.

  Harry scoffed again. “Don’t worry, Adam held his own. He’s fit, fast and good with his fists.”

  Holly, Peggy and I grimaced.

  “And you know about the midnight curse?” Peggy said.

  I saw Holly and Harry exchange looks.

  “No,” I looked at them suspiciously and then back to Peggy. I remember now that Harry said something about Adam not staying out after midnight. I caught it in my peripheral hearing first or second day on the bus, but there was so much else going on I forgot it.

  “It’s nothing, just a joke,” Holly said. “A sort of myth or legend, that’s all.”

  “No, it’s not,” Peggy said full of knowledge. “It’s a curse.” She turned back to me relishing her role as storyteller. “Because the widow was said to have heard her husband call her name right as the clock struck midnight—when he died, despite the fact he was here and she was on the other side of the earth—it is said that she wept so many tears that all surviving sailors and their descendents if they were near the ocean at midnight, would be swept out to sea in her ocean of tears and drown like her husband.”